Harry Potter and the Guardian Angel
by Nentikobe
Summary: Harry's fifth year and how he deals with everything that happened in GOF. There's a new girl in the school, who is much more than she seems. Written before OotP came out. Abandoned indefinately.
1. Hagrid's Mission

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Author's note/Disclaimer: This story takes place after Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. If you haven't read that yet read it before you read this for you may become confused (and I may also ruin it for you). And if you haven't read any of the first three books, read them, and in order before your read The Goblet of Fire. The story will make all the more sense the more you know. =)

Some of you may recognize the title and first chapter of this story. I wrote it a while ago and posted it on a site called "The Illustrated World of Harry Potter" which was owned by a girl who called herself Dark Cyradis (spelling?). Wonderful site, really. Her two passions in life were Harry Potter and Anime, so naturally, she made a site containing both. A very well done and organized site with Anime illustrations, all drawn by Dark Cyradis herself. These were very high quality pictures, and I imagine if she moved to Japan that she could get a well-paying job as an animator. But unfortunately, that site no longer exists, and since then, I've re-written this story because, well, because I absolutely hate it. The only things that remained the same were the title, the basic plot line, and the first chapter. So if you read it there, it's completely different now. Not all completely finished, but almost.

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So anywho, here's that fun legal crap that I _know _you all enjoy so much: Okay, I don't own the Harry Potter books. Well, I do, but I don't own the copyrights. I'm not permitted by law to make money off them, and I don't intend to. Some of the characters in this story are mine, but the vast majority of them belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, AOL Time-Warner, and other companies and people that I do not know of. I am assuming that you the reader have read the books and will know the difference.

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HARRY POTTER and the GUARDIAN ANGEL

By Nentikobe

PART I:

Hagrid's Mission.

It was a beautiful morning on the Hogwarts grounds. It was warm, the skies were clear, and the sky was a beautiful shade of red-orange in the East where the sun would soon show its face. Rubeus Hagrid stood on the porch in front of his cabin, admiring all this. He sniffed the air, which smelled like fresh pine and dewy grass. He couldn't have imagined a more beautiful morning.

The grounds were very quiet, except for the occasional bird song or snore from Fang, Hagrid's boarhound. It was late June, and all the students had long since gone home for the summer holidays. Hagrid, however, remained on the Hogwarts grounds year-round, except for this summer. This summer Hagrid would be getting a little vacation, if you could call it that. And although Hagrid loved Hogwarts with all his heart, he couldn't wait to get going. He turned his head upward to look at the few remaining stars in the sky.

"Good morning Hagrid," said a cheerful voice. Hagrid looked down from the sky, and up the lawn leading to Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, was approaching.

" G'mornin' Professor!" smiled Hagrid.

"All set for you trip, Hagrid?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes sir. Finished packin' las' night," replied Hagrid.

"Good, good. Any sign of Madame Maxime?" asked Dumbledore.

"No' yet sir. But she'll be comin' soon. She knows tha' she is suppose' ter be here at sunrise. So any minute now."

The two of them stood for a moment in silence, admiring the sky, and also watching for Madame Olympe Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, a wizard school in France. Her and a few of her students had visited Hogwarts the previous year for the Triwizard tournament.

"Nervous?" Dumbledore suddenly asked.

Hagrid gave a deep sigh. "Very."

"I would be too, if I were in your position," Dumbledore said, still looking at the sky.

"Yeah, I s'pose. But, nervous or not, this is important. Very important. Nothin' could keep me from this mission."

"That's one of the reasons why I chose you, Hagrid. You have yet to let me down on a mission," Dumbledore smiled at Hagrid. He was looking at the sky again, Dumbledore thought that he looked as if something troubled him. "Is there something on your mind?"

Hagrid did indeed have a strange look about his face, like he was worried. "Well, Professor Dumbledore, sir, what you jus' said made me think of a mission yeh sent me on four year's ago. Yeh know, ter fetch Harry?"

"I remember. What about it?"

"Well, I'm worried a bit, that's all. How is the lad?"

"Judging by what I have and have not heard, I'd say he's doing quite well. Especially for a boy who has just had his world turned upside down."

Hagrid let out another deep sigh. "I feel so sorry for the lad, he's had ter grow up so fas' an' all."

The images of last year played back in both their minds. Especially the end of the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, when Harry appeared at the edge of the maze the champions were supposed to get through with the Triwizard Cup in one hand, and a dead Cedric Diggory in the other.

"God bless 'im though. Bringin' back the body o' that poor Diggory lad. I would've nevera done that. I'd be too scared," said Hagrid in a low, sad tone.

"Yes, Harry indeed put his life at risk to do that. He proved braver than even I thought he was that night. But don't judge yourself. We never know how brave we are until we are tested."

Hagrid opened his mouth to reply, but was suddenly interrupted by a loud whinny and the flapping of wings. Madame Maxime came down from the sky on the back of a giant palomino colored Pegasus. She was holding a rope tied to another Pegasus in her hand. They landed on the ground with a series of loud thuds made by the Pegasus' hooves.

"Olympe!" Hagrid said, hurrying over to her, "Good ter see yeh, m'lady." Hagrid took Madame Maxime's hand and kissed it, than proceeded to help her down.

Madame Maxime gave a soft giggle, "Likewise, 'Agrid m'dear."

Madame Maxime was, like Hagrid, a half giant. Larger in height and width than a normal human, but not quite full giant size. One parent was human, the other, a giant. The two of them walked over to Hagrid's hut. Dumbledore smiled a pleasant, welcoming smile.

"Madame Maxime, it is a pleasure!" Dumbledore bowed.

"Oh, Dumbly-dorr! 'Ow good it tiz to see you again!" she said in a heavy French accent.

Hagrid went inside his hut, gathered a couple of bags off his bed, then proceeded back outside. Hagrid set his things down on the ground, then headed around the back of his porch. He returned a short while later, leading a pure white hippogriff on a leash.

Madame Maxime awed. "Oh, 'Agrid! It tiz zee most beautiful creature I 'ave ever seen!" Her pegesus' pawed the ground.

"The name's Snowflake. I figured she would be the best hippogriff fer the job," said Hagrid, slightly puffing up his chest. He gathered up all his things, then proceeded to tie them to the back of the hippogriff. Madame Maxime went over to her Pegasus's and untied some bags she had on the back of the one that she did not ride on. 

After all their things were tied on to Snowflake's back, Hagrid tied her to one of the Pegasus's. He and Madame Maxime both turned to face Dumbledore. 

"Well, Professor, I s'pose we'd best be off then," said Hagrid.

"With out saying goodbye to us?" said another voice from off in the shadows. 

Two women came walking up. One with glasses and black hair pulled into a tight bun, and another who was slightly stocky with brown hair. A tall man with black, greasy hair followed them. 

"Professor McGonagall! Madame Pomfrey! I almos' forgot!" said Hagrid. He then looked at the man with a look of surprise on his face. "Professor Snape? I never knew yeh cared!"

"Well, this mission affects us all. It is for the well being of the greater good. I figured that I might as well come and be a part of the sendoff. After all, I'm a part of this, too," said Snape, trying to sound serious and like he didn't care.

Hagrid's eyes were twinkling. "Oh, come'ere, yeh big lug!" which was a very odd thing to say, considering that Hagrid was much larger than Snape. Hagrid gave Snape a very tight hug. Everyone laughed. Snape was not too pleased. 

Hagrid then hugged Madame Pomfrey. Professor McGonagall sniffled.

"Minerva, are you all right?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, I'm fine," replied McGonagall. She took off her glasses, which were getting foggy from her tears. When Hagrid came to give her a hug, she looked at him and said, "You don't mind if I loose my composure, do you?"

"Not at all, m'dear! Not at all!" Hagrid and McGonagall hugged. 

Hagrid was getting misty eyed, too. "I figured you three'd be off enjoyin' the summer already! Its so nice fer yeh ter come back and say goodbye!"

"Oh, it was nothing, Hagrid," said Madame Pomfrey.

"Yes, nothing. This is a very brave and dangerous thing that you are doing here. Who knows how long you will be gone?" added McGonagall. Snape rolled his eyes.

Hagrid then turned to Dumbledore. They shook hands. 

"This is a very brave thing you are doing, Hagrid. You may save us all." Dumbledore smiled, and then a tear ran down Hagrid's cheek. Hagrid hugged Dumbledore.

"You will take good care o' Fang fer me?" asked Hagrid. 

"I will treat him like he was my own pet," replied Dumbledore.

Madame Maxime came up and gave Dumbledore a big hug. "Zis is goodbye then, Dumbly-dorr!" she said. She then turned to Professor McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, and Professor Snape and curtsied. "Sir, ladies." 

"Madame," they said together while bowing and curtsying. 

Hagrid and Madame Maxime turned and started walking toward the Pegasus'. Suddenly, there was a loud whining behind them.

"Oh, Fang!" said Hagrid, "I hoped ter be gone before yeh woke up!"

Fang came running out to Hagrid. "No, boy. I can' take yeh with me. It's too dangerous. But yeh got Dumbledore ter watch after yeh." Fang whined some more. Hagrid hugged him. "Goodbye, m'boy." Hagrid then turned and walked over to the Pegasus's and mounted the one tied to the hippogriff. Madame Maxime had already mounted hers.

"Goodbye!" they said together. They waved. Fang whined some more, and Professor McGonagall blew her nose in a hanky. Then, with a loud whooshing sound and a gust of wind, they were off. Heading off toward the sunrise. 

"Are you sure the brute can handle this big of a task?" asked Snape.

"I'm not sure. As a matter of fact, I'm positive," Dumbledore smiled.

Snape frowned.


	2. Harry's Birthday Suprise

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Author's note/Disclaimer: You should all feel lucky that you get a second chapter right away. I can never seem to finish stories all that quickly. In fact, I currently have a GooGooDolls fic that I've been working on for over a year now, and I only have eight chapters up.

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So anywho, here's that fun legal crap that I _know _you all enjoy so much: Okay, I don't own the Harry Potter books. Well, I do, but I don't own the copyrights. I'm not permitted by law to make money off them, and I don't intend to. Some of the characters in this story are mine, but the vast majority of them belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, AOL Time-Warner, and other companies and people that I do not know of. I am assuming that you the reader have read the books and will know the difference.

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HARRY POTTER and the GUARDIAN ANGEL

By Nentikobe

PART II:

Harry's Birthday Surprise.

BANG! BANG! BANG! Someone was knocking on the door. Harry Potter rolled over in his bed and put his pillow over his head. The banging continued.

"Are you awake in there!?" came a loud, female voice. It was Aunt Petunia.

"Yes! What do you want?" asked Harry.

"If you want breakfast you had better get out of bead this instant!" she yelled. Then Harry could hear her heading down the stairs.

"That was odd, wasn't it?" Harry asked Hedwig, his snowy owl. She was hooting with annoyance inside her cage, no doubt angry that her sleep was disturbed.

It was very odd indeed. The Dursley's, Harry's only living relatives, normally didn't wake him up at all. If he slept in, he'd have to starve until lunchtime. But Harry supposed that this was brought on by their fear of Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. Whenever Harry wanted something, all he usually had to do was mention writing a letter to Sirius and his aunt and uncle would give in. Harry smiled at the thought.

With a large yawn Harry got dressed, put on his glasses, and went into the bathroom. He stood there for a while, staring at his reflection in the mirror. At his green eyes he inherited from his mother, at the black hair that never did what he wanted it to do that he got from his father, and the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead that he had gotten from Lord Voldemort when he was just a baby. He reached for his toothbrush when something caught his eye. He lifted up his arm to look at the inside of his elbow at the second scar that he had gotten as a result of Voldemort.

There, on the crook of his arm, was a small scar. He had gotten it in the graveyard, on the night of the third task. Peter Pettigrew (commonly called Wormtail) had performed some sort of ritual to help Voldemort get his body back. He needed Harry's blood, so he had taken a dagger and made a small cut on Harry's arm. It was looking considerably better, Harry thought; it was less noticeable. The scar on his forehead didn't bother him. He'd always had it; he'd grown up with it. But this scar, this tiny, unnoticeable scar, bothered him a great deal. The only two people he had told about it were Sirius and Dumbledore.

The reason the scar troubled him so much was the circumstances in which he got it. As he looked at it, his mind flashed back to the graveyard. He could almost feel the ropes binding him to the headstone of Voldemort's father (whose bones were also needed for the ritual). He could almost hear the laughter of the Death Eaters. He could almost see, twenty feet in front of him, Cedric's body lying on the ground. Harry closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to force the pictures out. He placed his hands on either side of the sink and screwed up his face. There came a green light through his eyelids, and a thud, as if something fell to the ground. It was Cedric! It was all happening again! 

Harry started, and with a short yell, he spun around and found himself facing his cousin Dudley, who was standing in the doorway, doubled over with laughter. "Ha, ha! Scared you wuss!" And with that, Dudley grabbed Harry by the shirt and pulled (or more like dragged) him out of the bathroom. Had it not been for the nice hard wall, Harry would have fallen over. "You take too long!" said Dudley, and he shut the door in Harry's face. 

Harry stood there, leaning against the wall, until Dudley finally came out. "I hope you washed you hands," he said.

"You're gross! Of course I did, you twit," said Dudley. He then proceeded to hit the wall lightly.

"What was that for?" Harry asked. 

"Just trying to make the memory last. You should have seen the look on you face!" Dudley grinned. He turned and walked down the hall, continually hitting the wall and shouting "Boo!" all the way down the stairs.

Harry went back into the bathroom to resume what he had been doing until Dudley so rudely interrupted him. He looked up at the mirror, leaned forward, and looked his reflection in the eye. "Get a hold of yourself!" he said, putting toothpaste on his toothbrush, then shoving it into his mouth.

"Easier said than done," it seemed to reply. Harry spit and rinsed.

He picked up a comb sitting next to the sink and attempted to straighten his hair out. For some reason lately, Harry had been getting quite annoyed with it. He once had the silly notion of shaving his head and wearing a wig, but he soon got rid of the idea at the thought of it falling off during a Quidditch match. He really didn't know what brought it on, but he wished that he could just get it to behave. 

_It doesn't look all **that** bad_, Harry thought to himself as he walked down the stairs. His hair didn't make him look scrubby, but it didn't make him look like the catch of the day, either. 

Harry walked into the kitchen and stopped in the doorway. The kitchen looked quite the same as it always did. Uncle Vernon sat at the table reading that morning's newspaper, Aunt Petunia was over by the breadboard making breakfast, and Dudley sat in his chair making faces at Harry. Dudley was smaller than what he was the previous summer; he had dropped from the size and weight of a young killer whale to the size and weight of a small cow. Harry started making faces back at Dudley. 

Uncle Vernon turned to look at Harry. "Wipe that stupid look off your face and sit down," he said in a very stern tone. He then turned back to his newspaper.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied as he sat down.

Aunt Petunia came over to the table with a plate full of grapefruit quarters; they were all still on Dudley's diet. All four of them got two quarters apiece. This was even more odd, for they usually only got one quarter apiece. This appeared to please Dudley, but Uncle Vernon and Harry were both a bit puzzled.

"Oh, are we changing Dudley's diet, then?" asked Uncle Vernon, taking a bite into one of the quarters.

"Yes! According to the chart given to us by the school nurse, we can now upgrade to two pieces!" said Aunt Petunia. 

"Oh, _two _pieces you say? My, this _is_ a red-letter day!" said Uncle Vernon in a very sarcastic tone. Harry leaned back in his chair and casually started on his first grapefruit quarter, smiling at Dudley, who had already finished both of his and was eyeing Harry's plate.

"Oh, I almost forgot," said Aunt Petunia. She opened the cupboard and took out a package of rice cakes. She took one out and set it on a small plate on the counter. She then opened up one of the drawers and took out a small box of candles. She hastily jammed one into the rice cake and put the box away. She then picked up the plate and plopped it down on the table. "There you go."

Harry sat there, puzzled. "Um…what's the rice cake for?"

"Well what do you think?" Aunt Petunia snapped. She then proceeded to clear off the table. 

After Aunt Petunia had cleared the table of the dirty dishes and was washing them in the sink, Uncle Vernon resumed reading the newspaper, and Dudley was now eyeing the rice cake. Harry just sat there and stared in awe at what was in front of him. But nobody was paying any attention. 

Harry turned to Uncle Vernon. "Is this for me?"

He lowered his paper and glared at Harry. "Well who the bloody hell do you think it's for?" He then put the paper back up and blocked his face from view. Harry turned back to his rice cake.

"Hey!" Harry yelled. Dudley had slid the plate containing the rice cake across the table.

"Quiet down!" barked Uncle Vernon from behind his newspaper.

"Dudley," said Aunt Petunia.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna eat your precious cardboard cake," said Dudley. He seemed like he really wanted to though. Dudley took out a small box of matches and he lit the candle on top. He then pushed the plate away, making it fly back at Harry so fast that it almost fell off the table. Harry caught it and looked at it. This didn't surprise him. His birthday cake was a rice cake. And Dudley was right, it was a cardboard cake, or at least it should have been called that. Harry blew out his candle and proceeded to eat it. It was one of the most horrible things that he had ever tasted, but the look of hunger on Dudley's face made Harry enjoy every last bit of it.

When Harry had finished eating his rice cake, he turned to look at Uncle Vernon. "Er, may I ask, why I got this?"

"What, don't you like what you got?" Uncle Vernon had a trace of anger in his voice.

"Oh, I don't mean that I didn't like it. I mean, I did, but…"

"Then keep your mouth shut!" Uncle Vernon snapped at Harry. Harry took this as a sign to leave. 

"Clean this mess up," said Uncle Vernon, gesturing toward the plate and the few crumbs that surrounded it.

"Yes sir. Right away." Harry picked up the plate and crumbs and properly disposed of them. He then turned and left the kitchen.

****

Later on Harry found himself sitting at the desk in his room, absent-mindedly doodling on a piece of notebook paper from a notebook that he had stolen from Dudley. It was unused, and would more than likely be thrown away. Dudley needed all new supplies for the school year. He wouldn't use old ones.

He opened a drawer and took out two pens. One was red and one was blue. It took him a while to decided which one he was going to use. After some consideration and careful thought (which involved weighing them and testing their ability to balance on the bridge of his nose), he decided on the red one.

"Red for Gryffindor," Harry said. Red was the color of the robes that the Gryffindor Quidditch team wore. He then thought to himself, though quite unintentionally, _Yeah, and blue is for **Ravenclaw**_. Blue was the color of the robes that the Ravenclaw Quidditch team wore, and a pretty girl by the name of Cho Chang was their seeker. Harry sighed at the thought of her. He was trying not to think of Cho at all, because the painful memory of her in tears at the end of the year banquet would always be what he saw. 

Harry couldn't help liking Cho the way that he did, but it made him feel guilty. Cho had been Cedric Diggory's girlfriend, and now Cedric was dead. Harry had actually started to like Cedric near the end of the year; they might actually have become friends, had he not let him die. 

Harry couldn't take the thought of it anymore. He climbed under his bed and pulled up the loose floor bored that hid everything that he did not want found. He had a great many things in there. He had a stash of food that he had received from his friends; the only thing that helped him survive Dudley's diet. He also had his birthday presents that he had received from his friends by owl post the night before. 

Harry had gotten some wonderful presents from his friends this year. He had gotten a brand knew edition of Quidditch Through the Ages from his best friend, Ron. Harry could tell that it was new, for he had quickly flipped through it and found some extra information that the school's book didn't have. It even included last year's Quidditch world cup (which he had attended himself). 

He also received a gift from Ron's older twin brothers, Fred and George, whom he didn't even think knew when his birthday was. They had given him a small bag full of candy. In the card they had said that these were 'prototypes', which Harry took to mean that these were more products for the joke shop that they hoped to open after they graduated. These Harry left alone.

He had also gotten a broom servicing kit refill pack from his other best friend, Hermione, and a folded piece of parchment with a paw print on the front that said "Happy Birthday" from his godfather, Sirius. Harry couldn't help but laugh. Every card that he had ever gotten from Sirius had a paw print on it. This annoyed him at first, but then he realized that since Sirius was an outlaw (who was framed by Wormtail and imprisoned without a trial), and that it would be impossible for him to get Harry a real card. Harry also thought that it was indeed rather clever, for Sirius was an unregistered animagus who could turn into a dog. The paw print was his own.

Perhaps the most odd gift that he had received was from Hagrid. He had gotten it a month ago. Harry unfolded his letter and reread it for the tenth time. 

**__**

Dear Harry,

I hope I find you in good health and high spirits. I know the past few weeks have been a little rough for you.

I'm leaving tomorrow morning to go on that secret mission I told you about. Don't bother asking me what it is, for I'm sworn to secrecy. Besides, by the time you get this, I'll have already left. Don't send Hedwig or any other owls to find me, I'll be all right. I should be back by the start of term.

Cheers,

Hagrid

PS I've sent your birthday present a month in advance, because I won't have time to later.

Harry took out a wad of parchment and unrolled it. Inside there was something small. It was a figurine carved out of wood. It was some animal that Harry had never seen. He would have consulted _The Monster Book of Monsters,_ but Harry didn't like looking at that book unless he absolutely had to. Hagrid had assigned the book for Care of Magical Creatures class and not only did it have pictures and facts about monsters, the book _was_ as monster. It would attack someone if they didn't keep it bound with a belt or something else like that. The only way you could read it was if you tickled it's spine. Of course, the trick is tickling the spine without being bitten in the process. 

The door to Harry's room suddenly opened, and Harry quickly shoved all his things back into the hole and put the bored down. He then lay on top of it. 

"Helloooo!" a voice called. It was Dudley.

"Don't you know how to knock?" asked Harry.

Dudley bent down to the best of his ability. Harry saw his pink face and blonde hair appear under the bed. "What are you under your bed for?"

"It blocks the sound of nosy gits like you in the hall," Harry answered.

"What is your problem?" asked Dudley. 

"You," answered Harry.

"No, it's not that. I don't think that I've ever made you sulk in your room all summer long. It's becoming very bothersome," said Dudley.

"Well, it's nice to know that you care," Harry said sarcastically.

"No, I don't care. Sulk all you want. Mum and dad are just worried that you're doing _things_ up here," said Dudley in a matter-or-fact tone.

"What do they think I'm doing?" Harry asked.

"Things that you're not supposed to do. Like, magic at home, or things to attract the neighbors attention," answered Dudley. Harry scoffed.

"So what is it then. Are you sad because you have no friends?" Dudley grinned.

"I have friends. I have lots of friends," said Harry. "Can you leave now?"

"Fine," answered Dudley. He slowly got up and headed for the door. "But I think that it's very pathetic that you sit in here all day and drown in your sorrows," he said in an airy voice. And with that, he walked out and slammed the door behind him.

Dudley was right. As much as Harry hated to admit it, Dudley was right. It was rather pathetic that he spent all his time locked up in his room. It certainly wasn't doing him very much good, either. He slowly rolled out from under his bed and got up. He dusted himself off, left his room, headed downstairs and out into the garden.

****

Harry sat down on a bench in the garden. He put his feet on the seat, brought his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. He then buried his face in his arms.

The morning had been going by so great, leave it to Dudley to mess things up. Harry had been through a lot, and all he wanted was time to himself. He had been sulking in his room half the summer, and he had been doing nothing else. Harry hadn't even started his homework.

Visions of the past year were spinning in Harry's head like a top. All he wanted to do was forget. Going back in time and fixing everything would be better, but he knew that he couldn't do that. It was all sometimes too much than Harry could take, and it was times like these that Harry would lock himself up in his room. 

Harry was awoken from his revere by the sound of footsteps. He looked up, and saw Dudley standing in front of him.

"Go away," said Harry, putting his head back into his arms.

"I live here too. I have the right to be in this garden if I so desire," said Dudley.

"Fine, but don't talk to me."

"Why not?"

"Because you've already ruined my morning enough as it is."

Dudley laughed. "If it's already ruined, what's a little more ruination going to hurt?"

"It'll get you a black eye."

"Oo! I'm sooooooooo scared!" Dudley sat down on the bench next to Harry.

"What do you want?" Harry asked.

"I want to know why you have been acting stranger than you normally do."

"Why do you care?"

"I _care_ only because I think that mum and dad are right. You are doing things in your room that you're not supposed to be. I'm gonna tell!"

"Aren't you a little _old_ to be a tattletale?" 

"Not if it gets you in trouble and expelled from school!" Dudley had a huge grin on his face.

"Yeah, Dudley, you're absolutely right. I'm concocting a potion that will give you an inoperable pig's tale for the rest of your life!"

"Ha, ha. Very funny." Dudley was no longer smiling. He then turned and looked at Harry. "What do you think you are, some kind of tough guy? You think that you're so cool and awesome because you're a big fifteen-year-old now? Well let me tell you, I'm the same age."

"Why, thanks for clearing that up! I thought you were just a baby! You must just be a vertically challenged hippo."

This confused Dudley, and he sat in deep thought until Harry sighed, "Never mind." Harry got up off the bench and walked out into the yard where a hammock on a metal-tube stand stood. Uncle Vernon had just bought it a couple of weeks ago. He said that it would help him relax after a hard day's work. But Uncle Vernon had to of left for work by now, and with that thought, Harry flung himself onto it. 

"So you keeping secrets from everybody? Don't want to admit the truth?" Dudley asked.

"Oh, and just what, praytell, would this truth be?" Harry raised an eyebrow at him.

"That life as a wizard completely sucks!"

"No it doesn't!"

"Then what's your problem?"

"Dudley, if I told you, you'd have nightmares."

"I'm trying to be serious here, Harry!"

"Good! And so am I!"

"Harry, did something happen to you at the end of the school year or something?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry barked.

"Why? Did you fail all your classes?"

"I said that I don't want to talk about it!" 

"Fine then! I don't want to hear about it!" replied Dudley. With that, Dudley got up off the bench. He walked over to where Harry lay on the hammock. "Get off," he said.

"No," Harry replied.

"I want to lay on it! So get off!" Dudley ordered.

"No! You can't lay on it!" Harry snapped.

"Oh really? Why can't I, then?"

"Because you'll break it!" Harry turned over onto his side so that he faced away from Dudley. There were a few seconds of silence, and then Harry suddenly found himself flipping over and falling. He landed on the bottom part of the frame that held up the hammock. He straightened his glasses and looked up. Dudley was holding one side of the hammock up near his chin. Dudley then let go and let the hammock swing.

"You know that mum and dad only gave you that rice-cake to try to keep you out of your room. They don't trust what you're doing in there. But if they ordered you out of your room, you'd probably just sulk downstairs and get in the way. Or you would write a letter to your murderous godfather. They thought that if this present would cheer you up, you would stop sulking in your room, stay out of their way, and not write a letter to your godfather. They don't care about you, they just don't trust you." Dudley stared at Harry for a moment. He then opened up his mouth to say something else but didn't. He just made a little "ugh" noise. Harry looked up at him and saw that he had a look of shock and horror on his face. 

"What's with you?" Harry asked. 

"Duh, duh, ugh," Dudley said, staring and pointing as he backed away. Dudley stepped on a sprinkler and tripped over.

"What is your problem?" Harry asked. He turned around to see what Dudley was pointing at. "What the!?" Harry jumped to his feet and started to back away too. For what he saw in front of him was one of the biggest fears of all wizard kind, a Death Eater.

"Why so frightened?" he asked.

"What, who…" started Dudley.

"How did you, how could you, how did you find me?" said Harry in utter disbelief.

"Now, now. You know how it goes. No need to fight, you know it's useless," he said.

"I'll fight if I have to!" Harry yelled. He reached down for his wand, but then realized that it was in his room. He was quite vulnerable.

"Who is he!" squealed Dudley.

Harry turned around. "You're still here?" Without another thought, he had grabbed Dudley by his enormous arm and was attempting to pull him to his feet. "Come on, Dudley! Get up!" Dudley got to his feet.

"Really, I don't know why you do things like this. Do you think that you're going to get away one of these days? It's useless, you know that. And it's becoming quite an annoyance," said the Death Eater.

"W-what's going on?" asked Dudley.

"Just, RUN! RUN FOR THE HOUSE!" Harry yelled as he dragged Dudley behind him. They could hear the Death Eater's laughter all the way to the house. 

"MUM! MUM!" Dudley yelled as soon as they shut the door. 

Aunt Petunia came running out of the kitchen. "Oh! What is it Duddykins?"

"In the garden! In…in…out there!" Dudley pointed at the door.

Aunt Petunia turned to look at Harry, who had sat on the floor up against the wall. "Harry, have you been playing nasty tricks on Dudley?" She bent down to look at him closer. "Been using, well, you-know-what illegally, out of school?" Aunt Petunia looked very sternly at Harry. She was no doubt very angry with him.

"I can't believe that they found me," said Harry very softly. He was staring blankly forward, not even noticing Aunt Petunia next to him.

"Excuse me?" she said.

Harry looked up at her. "I'm sorry, what?"

Aunt Petunia's face was turning red. "Knock off this stupid game you're playing, Harry! Apologize to Dudley!"

"For what? I didn't do anything!" Harry protested.

"NOW!" Aunt Petunia yelled.

"No, mum! Out there! Look out the window!" screeched Dudley.

She got up and walked over the window. "All I see are fingerprints," she said, "Harry, wash this window."

"But I…" Harry said getting to his feet.

"Fine then, make it ALL the windows!"

"But if you would just listen!" Harry yelled.

"Make it the car windows, too! And not another word!"

"Yes Aunt Petunia."

"And while you're at it, wash the rest of the car."

Aunt Petunia left the room.

"Who was that?" asked Dudley.

"It…. it was…" Harry staggered.

"Was?" persisted Dudley.

"It was … a Death Eater."

"That was a cruel joke!" Dudley shouted.

"It wasn't a joke!" Harry shouted back.

"Yeah right! And now you're stuck washing windows for the rest of the day!" Dudley smiled a huge grin. He then stuck his tongue out at Harry, spun on his heels, and walked away laughing. "Death Eater! What a stoooooooooooopid name! Makes sense that a stoooooooooopid git like you would think of something as stooooooooooopid as that!" And then Dudley disappeared into the kitchen.

Harry just sat there, staring at the kitchen door. He was so angry that he was on the verge of tears. 

"If only they knew," he said quietly to himself. "If only they _could_ know. Oh what good would it do?" And with that, he got up and gloomily set off to wash the windows.


	3. Sgt. Scruffy's Replacement

****

Author's note/Disclaimer: Boy, I'm really making progress, aren't I? Well, I just want to warn you that this chapter is a bit sappy. And I know that there are a select few of you who may even find it sad, so get the tissues ready. I'm not quite sure if I'm happy about the way this went, but the chapter does need to happen this way in order to work, so, yeah. 

****

So anywho, here's that fun legal crap that I _know _you all enjoy so much: Okay, I don't own the Harry Potter books. Well, I do, but I don't own the copyrights. I'm not permitted by law to make money off them, and I don't intend to. Some of the characters in this story are mine, but the vast majority of them belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, AOL Time-Warner, and other companies and people that I do not know of. I am assuming that you the reader have read the books and will know the difference.

****

HARRY POTTER and the GUARDIAN ANGEL

By Nentikobe

PART III:

Sgt. Scruffy's Replacement

Harry spent the rest of the day washing windows. When he had finally finished, Aunt Petunia made Harry go out and wait in the garage for Uncle Vernon to come home so he could wash the car. He sat on the steps in front of the door in the garage that led inside. But he was interrupted when Aunt Petunia had opened the door and he fell backwards unto her feet (he had been leaning up against it). She then promptly ordered him to clean the garage while he was waiting. 

_This isn't too bad, I guess,_ Harry thought to himself. At least he could finally have some nice quiet time to himself, instead of having to be bothered by Dudley's taunts or Petunia's criticism (which he had had to deal with all day long while washing the windows). 

After careful consideration, Harry decided that perhaps he hadn't really seen a Death Eater. Its voice seemed sort of echo-y, like he was far away, even though he was only a few feet away. And the way he looked. He seemed like he wasn't completely solid, now that Harry thought about it. Was he hallucinating? Was all that time he spent locked up in his room starting to get to him? He wasn't sure, because Dudley had seen the Death Eater as well. Was it accidental magic? He had accidentally made Aunt Marge inflate like a balloon two summers before. Could he possibly have made a false image appear in the garden for all to see?

The sound of the garage door opening interrupted his reverie. 

"What are you doing in here?" Uncle Vernon barked, sticking his head out the car window.

"Just cleaning. But you need to leave the car outside so I can wash it," Harry replied.

"Good. This car is beginning to get filthy." With that, Uncle Vernon put the car into park, shut it off, and headed inside. Harry filled a bucket with soap and water, grabbed a rag, pulled out the hose, and began to wash the car. 

Just as Harry finished, he was called in for dinner.

"Car's all done," he said as he entered the kitchen.

"I'll move it after dinner," said Uncle Vernon.

"You know, I could…" Harry began, feeling hopeful.

"Ha! You drive the car? You'd crash the bloody thing and total it!" Vernon laughed.

"But it only needs to be put into the garage! That's like, ten feet in a straight line!"

Uncle Vernon narrowed his eyes. 

"And just think! You'd be able to go and immediately relax after dinner! You wouldn't have to worry about the car at all. I mean, I washed the thing. Putting it away is all part of the job."

Uncle Vernon continued to look at Harry with his eyes narrowed. Aunt Petunia stood looking at the two of them, chewing on her tongue

"But if I were to say yes, then you'd get the idea that you could drive all the time! Next you'll be begging to take driving lessons, then getting a license, then you'll be wanting to take the car and go everywhere. Well, I'll not have it. You and your kind don't even need to drive cars! Don't you have other ways to get around?" said Uncle Vernon.

"But we can't fl…" Harry stopped himself and quickly tried to think of a way to put it that wouldn't get him into trouble, "We can't use any of our normal modes of transportation around mu…I mean, normal people. Some of us do need cars as well." Harry explained.

"I don't care. You're not driving and that's final!"

Harry sighed and looked down at his plate. He was startled buy a loud bang of the kitchen door opening that signaled the entrance of Dudley into the room. "Can I drive?" he asked. He had overheard their conversation.

"Sure. How'd you like to put the car into the garage after dinner?" said Vernon. Dudley grinned, Harry gaped.

"But you just said…" Harry began.

"Dudley may actually need a car one day. You don't!" barked Uncle Vernon. Aunt Petunia set the food on their plates and they ate dinner. 

***

After dinner Harry went outside into the back yard. It was a beautiful evening. The sprinkler in the neighbor's yard was on, the distant humming of a lawn mower could be heard, and a dog was barking somewhere. Aunt Petunia came outside to work in her flowerbeds, Dudley was inside watching TV, and Uncle Vernon was in the den doing important paperwork for his drill company. All things considered, Harry flung himself onto the hammock. 

He made himself comfortable and closed his eyes. He moved around a bit to make the hammock swing. As he swung, a light breeze blew, and he sang to himself, "Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me…" 

But suddenly he stopped. Something had flown over him and landed at his feet. He opened his eyes and saw, perched on the frame of the hammock, an owl. Harry sat up and looked closer at it. It looked like one of the owls at the post office in Hogsmeade, the only entirely non-muggle town in all of Britain. The owl stuck out its leg revealing a letter. Harry untied the letter and the owl flew away. He quickly looked around; no one had noticed. 

Harry opened his letter. It was from Hermione.

**_Dear Harry,_**

How are you? Things are all okay here. 

Well anyway, I just got back from visiting Victor in Bulgaria. My parents decided to make a trip of it because they said that they didn't want me "to go off to a foreign country to visit some boy" they don't know. Oh well, it was fun anyway. I do believe they took a liking to Victor. I was ever so pleased.

Did you get your present? I ordered it from a catalog and had them ship it to you. I hope you did. Happy Birthday, by the way.

Well, that's not why I'm writing. You'll never guess what was waiting for me when I got home! A letter from the school! Guess what the letter said! You never will! 

Harry sighed. This part of letter seemed to be hastily written, as if she were very excited.

**_It said that I was chosen to be a prefect! Can you believe it? Me, a prefect? I am so happy!_**

Big surprise Harry sarcastically thought to himself.

**_I danced around the house with my prefect badge. Did you get chosen as a prefect? I hope you did. And Ron, too. But only two people from each house are made a prefect each year, so it would be impossible for all three of us to be made prefects. But I hope either you or Ron did. Even though you have every one from the fifth year on up to contend with. Oh well. I still hope you did._**

You did do the essay and fill out the form, right? I hope you did. Because that would increase your chances of being named a prefect next year if you weren't this year. 

Well, I have to go now. Hope to see you soon!

Love,

Hermione

Harry thought back to when he had gotten his present from Hagrid. It had been accompanied buy the usual letter from school that told him about new things that were available to him seeing as how he was a fifth year, what books and supplies he would need, and also reminded him that term started on September first (_As if I'd forget_ Harry thought to himself).

But the letter also contained a form to fill out if you were interested in being a prefect. Only students from the fifth year and older could become prefects. And of those students, only those ranked in the top twenty-five percent of their year were eligible. Harry wondered how on Earth he could be ranked in the top twenty-five percent of their class, but considering the fact that he had gotten a form, he supposed that he somehow was.

In edition to filling out the form, students also had to write an essay about why they should be chosen as a prefect. Upon receiving these, the school faculty would then review your record and decide. But Harry really had no desire to become a prefect at the time. So he just simply put the letter and the form away in a drawer in his desk and forgot about it.

No, Harry still had no desire to be a prefect. It would be too high profile of a position. He didn't want that. The only reason he had to become a prefect was the fact that they had a really nice bathroom. But a bathroom was a really dumb reason to become a prefect, and remembering that Moaning Myrtle liked to hide in there and watch them all, he promptly decided against the whole thing.

Harry folded up the letter and stuck it into his pants pocket. He then returned to relaxing on the hammock. He was on the verge of sleep when two voices caught his attention.

"Good evening Miss Petunia!"

"Mrs. Figg! How are you?"

"Oh, I'm all right. I'm all right. Just walking my dog. I just got him."

"Oh, my. He certainly is a large dog. How can you handle him? He'd probably pull me over in a second!"

"Oh no. He's very well behaved. Doesn't pull or anything. He won't even go chasing after something unless I unhook his leash."

"How does he get along with your cats?"

"I don't have any more cats."

"Oh. Why's that?"

"I broke my leg tripping over one. Turns out that they weren't what I thought. Yup, they're all gone, now. Sgt. Scruffy is the one I tripped over, but they were all getting in the way. Anyway, I got this here dog for protection. It's becoming less safe to live day after day. I figured he'd be the best because he looks mean. He's not, mind you, but he looks it."

"He certainly does. What's his name?"

"Snuffles."

At the mention of the dog's name, Harry sat bolt upright. He turned and looked over at Aunt Petunia and Mrs. Figg. Mrs. Figg had a slight smirk on her face. Her eyes glanced in his direction as she spoke with Aunt Petunia. The dog turned it's head and stared back at him. 

"Harry! Do please come over here!" Mrs. Figg called.

Harry slowly got up out of the hammock and walked over to where the two women and the dog were standing. "Yes?"

"What do you think of my new dog? Does he seem scary enough to frighten unwanted individuals?"

Harry looked down at the dog. It was definitely very large, it was black, and it had shaggy fur. There was no mistake; he knew this dog. Very well, in fact.

"Oh yes. I would've been frightened had I not overheard your conversation. Did you say his name was Snuffles?" said Harry.

Mrs. Figg laughed. "Yes."

"Well, hearing that name certainly takes my fear of him away," Aunt Petunia chortled.

"Yes. Many people do think that Snuffles is a rather, well, weak name," Mrs. Figg laughed again. The dog looked at her with a look of apprehension on its face.

"Would you like to come in for some tea? I dare say Vernon should have some. He's been so busy with his paperwork," said Aunt Petunia.

"Well, I should finish walking my dog, but tea does sound tempting. I know! Harry, would you like to walk Snuffles?" said Mrs. Figg.

"Sure," Harry answered immediately.

Mrs. Figg handed Harry the leash and headed off into the house with Aunt Petunia. Harry was left alone with Snuffles.

"Well, where too?" Harry asked.

Snuffles barked and lead the way. They headed down the street and took a right. They then crossed the road and headed into a park. They made their way into a wooded area.

Harry took the leash and caller off of Snuffles. He then turned to see if any one was around. "So, how did you get Mrs. Figg to take you in?" he asked. When Harry turned back around he saw a tall man standing in front of him.

"What, don't you know?" the man asked.

"Well, actually, no. Though I do have a few far-fetched ideas." 

Harry smiled, the man smiled back and walked up and hugged Harry. "It's good to see you again, Harry. And doing so well and all."

"It's good to see you, too, Sirius," Harry replied.

They broke apart and Sirius looked down at Harry with a puzzled look on his face. "Have you gotten taller?"

"I don't know."

"I think you have. I'd say at least two inches since I last saw you. That was barely over a month ago," said Sirius.

"Cool," Harry replied.

Sirius sat down on a large nearby rock. "So, how have you been holdin' up?"

"Oh, all right I guess," Harry said, looking down at his feet. He looked back up at Sirius, who had a stern look on his face.

"Why do I get the feeling that you just lied to me?" he asked.

Harry sighed. "Because I did." He then joined Sirius on the rock, who put his arm around Harry's shoulder.

"Rough summer?" Sirius asked.

"I guess."

"Your relatives giving you a hard time?"

"No more than usual. But I can handle them. They're not the problem."

"Then what is?"

"Oh, I don't know!" Harry said in a rather snappy way. He pushed Sirius' arm off his shoulder and stood up. He turned to face Sirius and shrugged. "I honestly don't. I mean, I can hardly sleep at night, but yet during the day I'm always tired. I can't concentrate long enough on any one thing to really accomplish anything. I've barely even begun my homework!" He lowered his voice until it was barley above a whisper. "I've just got this, I don't know, strong sense of foreboding. The only thing I can really bring myself to do is just sit in my room or lie on the hammock outside. But that's hard to do because I'm always getting kicked off it by either Dudley or my uncle." He looked up at Sirius, whose expression was unreadable.

"Go on, anything else?"

"Well, I just, well, er, I mean…I have no idea what I'm trying to say here."

Sirius smiled. "That's perfectly understandable. I'm surprised you said as much as you did."

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I wasn't quite expecting you to poor your heart out in front of me."

"Oh." Harry thought about this for a second. He had been a bit hasty in telling Sirius everything. But he tended to do that. "Sorry." 

This made Sirius laugh. "What have you got to feel sorry about?"

Harry sat down on the ground and looked into his lap. "I don't know." That was also a lie. He did indeed feel sorry about something, and he knew what. He just didn't want to say it because he knew what Sirius' reply would be. 

"I think you do. And I also think I know what about." Harry didn't look up when Sirius said this, but he could feel his eyes on him. Harry began to fidget.

"What difference does it make whether or not you know?" Harry asked.

"Well, it tells me what the problem is," replied Sirius. Harry didn't answer. He just sat there and pretended to be increasingly interested in a blade of grass.

Sirius got up and sat down on the ground next to Harry and but his hand on his shoulder. "Harry, you listen to me. I want you to stop blaming yourself."

"But it's all my fault."

"It's not, Harry."

"I told him to take the cup with me."

"But you had no idea that what happened would happen."

"How does that matter?" Harry was beginning to feel angry.

"How does it not?" Sirius asked.

"It doesn't matter because, well, because he's dead, that's why! So what if I didn't know? That doesn't matter! That's not the point! I mean, perhaps it's not may fault, maybe I did do everything right and things just didn't work out, but in the end that doesn't really matter," Harry's voice caught in his throat. When he next spoke, it was all shaky. He placed his head in his hands. "And what makes it worse is the fact that it was all completely pointless. I'm pretty sure that things would have gone the same way had Cedric not taken the cup with me. Well, everything except him dying." Harry had been wanting to point this out to someone for a long time. He was getting sick of everyone saying that it wasn't his fault.

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but then quickly closed it. It seemed apparent that Sirius agreed with this last statement, because it was the truth. After about a minute of deep thought, he spoke again, very slowly and softly. "This may be true, but it still doesn't make it your fault. I stand by the argument that there was no way you could have known, because there really was no way that you could have known."

Harry sniffed. His eyes began to burn and his vision went blurry. He rapidly blinked his eyes to correct this. He was glad that his head was in his hands so that Sirius couldn't see. As hard as it was to talk about, he was almost glad that he was doing so. Harry had spent all his time since the end of term with people who wouldn't even admit that he was a wizard, let alone allow him to talk about being one. He supposed that he was just glad to finally be with someone whom he could talk to.

"If you really think about it, Harry, there are so many other people who are more to blame than you," Sirius continued, "Barty Crouch for sneaking his son out of Azkaban, Crouch Jr. for impersonating Moody and turning the cup into a portkey, the Dark Lord for putting him up to it. It's their fault, because they were all doing it with the intention of killing someone. They knew what was going to happen when you grabbed the cup. Even if they didn't know that Cedric would be with you. I mean, Wormtail used Voldemort's wand to kill Cedric. If he would have simply refused to do so, Cedric would still be alive."

Harry finally looked up at Sirius. It was too soon, for doing so allowed a solitary tear slide down his cheek. He desperately wanted to change the subject.

"I got a birthday cake from the Dursleys this morning," said Harry, thinking of the first thing that came to his mind, no matter how stupid it may be.

"Really? Odd…"

"Yeah, but it was only a rice cake. They were afraid that I was doing things in my room that I wasn't supposed to be, so they figured that a rice cake with a candle stuck in it would cheer me up enough to make me stay out in the open."

"Why didn't they just…order you out?"

"They are still afraid that I could write a letter to you and that you'd come and violently kill them," said Harry. Sirius laughed. But Harry suddenly remembered something else.

"Sirius, is it possible to accidentally make an image of someone appear in front of you that others can see?" Harry asked.

"I suppose so. Why?"

"Because this morning I thought I saw a Death Eater in the garden."

Sirius nearly choked. "You what?"

"I don't think it was a real Death Eater, though. It didn't seem solid. Like a ghost, but in color. And his voice seemed echo-y and distant, as if we were in a cave."

Sirius sat in deep thought. "It sounds like what you saw was nothing more than a hallucination. But it's still alarming."

"Dudley saw it, too"

"Did he now? Well, anything is possible. It could have been accidental magic. But telepathy is very, very rare and very, very hard to do. It takes years and years of study. It's not something that just happens by accident. Unless you are born with it, but we would have seen signs of that long ago." Sirius stopped talking abruptly. There were a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.

"So, you never answered my question," Harry said, wanting to break the silence.

"What question?" Sirius asked with the air of a child who'd been caught doing something incredibly horrible. The sudden sound of shouting and giggling from a near by playground told them that they were no longer alone in the park. They both turned around, but the trees blocked their view. They both stood up.

"How did you get Mrs. Figg to take you in?" Harry asked again.

"So you really don't know?" asked Sirius.

"No."

"She told me she hadn't told you yet, but I figured you would have guessed on your own. Dumbledore practically told you, if not directly." The sounds of the children grew closer.

"Told me what?" Harry turned back around to see if any of the children had come into view.

"She was assigned the task of watching over you while you were growing up, Harry. Mrs. Figg is a witch," Sirius stated matter-of-factly.

"What?" This surprised Harry. But when he turned back around, Sirius had turned back into a dog. Just then, a group of about five children came running and giggling through the trees. They stopped dead in their tracks.

"Oh! A doggy!" one of them shouted. 

With a laugh Harry picked up the leash and caller and put them back onto Sirius. "I'm still going to want an explanation, you know. Don't think that this is going to get you out of anything." Sirius looked up at him with a look of defeat in his eyes. 

The children ran up to them, but were afraid to come too close. "Don't worry, he's a nice dog, He won't bite," Harry said assuringly. 

"What's his name?" asked one little girl.

"Snuffles," Harry replied. The children all giggled.

"What kind of a name is that for a dog?" asked a little boy.

"Ask him," laughed Harry.

"Talk to a dog? Are you crazy?" asked another little boy.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. You want to pet him?"

"Yeah!" the children all shouted in unison. Sirius flashed Harry a pleading look, which made him laugh even more. 

Sirius had no choice but to sit calmly and quietly as the children patted his head, pulled on his ears, and poked him all over. Finally Harry told them they had to get going. The children were all disappointed, but they reluctantly walked away, casting looks of yearning over their shoulders. Sirius flashed Harry yet another look, this time it was very annoyed. He emitted a low growl for emphasis. Harry laughed again, and had a very large smirk on his face all the way back to Number Four, Privet Drive. 


	4. Secrets on Privet Drive

Author's note/disclaimer: All right, this one took me a while. It was harder to write than I thought, but it should be a lot easier from here on out. But I could be wrong, which would not be surprising. Don't be shocked if this sucks, because I pulled most of it out of my 'bum'. ^_^  
  
A big thanks goes out to Lindsey and AmyEliza for reading and reviewing my fic and for telling me whether it sucks or not. I had a spurt of inspiration and made a tiny change, so you guys may have to re-read it to understand the rest of the story. And Lindsey, there is absolutely NOTHING sexual about the lady on the trampoline! You sicko. ::lol::  
  
So anywho, here's that fun legal crap that I know you all enjoy so much: Okay, I don't own the Harry Potter books. Well, I do, but I don't own the copyrights. I'm not permitted by law to make money off them, and I don't intend to. Some of the characters in this story are mine, but the vast majority of them belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, AOL Time-Warner, and other companies and people that I do not know of. I am assuming that you the reader have read the books and will know the difference.  
  
  
  
HARRY POTTER and the GUARDIAN ANGEL  
  
By: Nentikobe  
  
PART IV:  
  
Secrets in Surrey  
  
  
  
When Harry and Sirius had gotten back from their walk Mrs. Figg, after saying thanks and goodbye, left the house and met them at the end of the driveway. Harry's smirk faded as she drew near and he remembered what Sirius had told him.  
  
Harry handed her the leash and she bent over to scratch Sirius on the head to add effect to the situation. Harry just stared at her in awe, wondering just how she could possibly be a witch. When Mrs. Figg was done scratching the dog's head and she stood back up, she looked at him and immediately guessed what was on his mind.  
  
"He told you, didn't he?" she whispered. Harry just nodded. Mrs. Figg sighed. "Well, I guess you're wondering if it's true." Harry nodded again. "Well it is. Come, Snuffles."  
  
Mrs. Figg started to walk away when Harry stopped her. "Mrs. Figg, how, why?" was all that managed to get out.  
  
She turned around and smiled at him. "I do suppose an explanation is in order."  
  
"Well, yeah," Harry replied.  
  
Mrs. Figg laughed and looked down at Sirius. "See what you've gotten me into?" Sirius just looked up at her and gave a soft whine.  
  
"Mrs. Figg, may I ask…" Harry began, but she raised her hand to stop him.  
  
"All in due time Harry. But I can't explain now, there's no time. And please, now that you know my secret, call me Izabella," and with that she turned and walked away.  
  
Harry stood frozen to the spot. Of course! He finally understood what Sirius had meant when he said that Dumbledore had practically told him, if not directly. The night after the third task, when Dumbledore had sent Sirius to tell Lupin to round up the 'old crowed', he had mentioned an Izabella Figg. At least, Harry thought he had. The name sounded both right and wrong at the same time. Most of it made sense now, but he still wanted an explanation.  
  
That was all a week ago, though, and Harry still hadn't gotten one. Mrs. Figg and Sirius went by almost every night on a walk, but Harry never saw them until they were on their way back home. He asked if he could come to Mrs. Figg's house to talk, but she would only tell him that it wouldn't be a good idea. "In due time, Harry. You just need to wait at home and be patient," she would reply. Harry was getting very frustrated. Twice he went to her house in the middle of the day. Both times no one was there.  
  
Besides being very frustrated and confused, Harry found that life seemed to have improved, if only a little. Just knowing that Sirius was only two streets away put him in a much better mood. What amused Harry the most was the fact that three times Dudley stopped Mrs. Figg on her way back home wanting to pet Sirius. "If only he knew who that dog really was," Harry would chuckle to himself.  
  
****  
  
Soon summer began to draw to a close. Harry began to feel as if he'd be left in the dark forever. He would be going back to Hogwarts soon, and any chance for an explanation seemed slim there. Unless, of course, Sirius were to sneak in as a dog. Or perhaps now that Mrs. Figg's cover was blown, she would turn up herself and tell him. Neither scenario seemed very likely. Mrs. Figg and Sirius seemed to be rather busy, and the tale of Mrs. Figg posing as nothing more than a lowly old cat-lady was probably not high on their priorities list.  
  
Then there was Dumbledore. Harry had a feeling that Dumbledore had a part in all this. But was he willing to tell? Harry wasn't sure, because he had asked questions in the past that had gone unanswered all because Harry was simply "not ready" to know the truth. But Dumbledore hadn't let all of Harry's questions go unanswered, and Harry figured that he had to be ready for the truth by now.  
  
But as September first drew nearer, an even bigger question popped into his head; how was he going to get to Diagon Alley to buy his new school supplies? He doubted very much that the Dursleys would take him, and Ron's last letter had said that Harry still couldn't go to their house.  
  
Harry didn't have to ponder this question very long, however. One Monday evening, two weeks before the start of term, Harry lay sprawled out on the couch in the living room watching TV. Dudley was over at a friend's house, Uncle Vernon was working late, and Aunt Petunia was sitting in the den chatting away on the telephone.  
  
"He did what? Oh my goodness! You're kidding! I can not believe it," Harry heard her squeal loudly on the other side of the door.  
  
Harry sighed. "Good old Aunt Petunia."  
  
Then the tone coming from the den changed. "Hang on, I have a call on the other line. Hello? Oh Mrs. Figg! How are you? Good, good. What can I do for you? Uh, huh. Yes, he's here. You sure? All right, I'll send him right over. Buh-bye."  
  
Harry sat up on the couch and waited expectantly for Aunt Petunia to come into the room. He didn't have to wait long.  
  
"I just got a call from Mrs. Figg. She wants to you walk her dog for her. You are to go over to her house right away, before dark!" Harry just sat there, pretending that it was no big deal. "Well? Get a move on!"  
  
"Yes, right away!" he replied. Aunt Petunia went back to her phone conversation.  
  
Once Harry was out of the house, he ran as fast as he could to Mrs. Figg's. He finally got to her door and knocked. Mrs. Figg opened the door to find a very out of breath fifteen year old boy clutching a stitch at his side in front of her.  
  
"You called?" Harry panted.  
  
"My, that was quick. What, did you run all the way?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Mrs. Figg looked around as if expecting someone else to pop up. "All right, inside with ya."  
  
Harry walked inside to the ever so familiar smell of cabbage; the only thing that seemed to stay just the way it was. Mrs. Figg showed him to the living room where Sirius sat on the couch, watching TV.  
  
"Hey, Harry!"  
  
"Hey."  
  
"Sit down." Sirius moved over to give Harry room.  
  
"What are you watching?" Harry asked.  
  
"I'm not quite sure, actually. I'm just flipping through the channels. Wonderful things, televisions. And then these," Sirius held up the remote, "They work almost like magic. Don't need to put spells on them or anything. I was never really interested in TV at all before I came here. I wonder how much motorcycles have improved?" This made Harry laugh.  
  
Mrs. Figg walked over to the TV and shut it off. "And there are also two ways to shut TV's off. Isn't that nice?" she asked in a singsong voice. Sirius grunted and threw the remote onto the coffee table in front of the couch. Mrs. Figg sat down in a nearby chair.  
  
Sirius stood up and walked over to a nearby shelf. He turned around and smiled at Harry, leash and collar in hand. "Want to go for a walk?"  
  
"I guess so," replied Harry. He got up and took the leash and collar from Sirius, who then turned into his dog self. Harry put the leash and collar onto Sirius and they made their way to the door.  
  
"Now boys, don't take too long," Mrs. Figg called after them.  
  
Harry and Sirius made their way over to Privet Drive, where they walked right past number four and headed to the park where they had had their talk just weeks before. Checking to make sure that there were no children, they headed into the trees to the big rock. Harry took off the leash and collar and Sirius changed back into a man.  
  
"Can you please tell me what's going on now?" asked Harry.  
  
"Not here," replied Sirius.  
  
Harry sighed. "That's the only reply that I ever seem to get."  
  
"Now listen, Harry. I would tell you if I could. You may have to wait until you get back to school. It's not that important or interesting of a story. Honestly." said Sirius.  
  
Harry sighed.  
  
"Now, speaking of school, you need new supplies, don't you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"All right then. Now," Sirius lowered his voice, "Tomorrow you will get a phone call. The person on the other end will make all the necessary arrangements."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Sirius looked around. "And please, don't wander far from home. At least not without letting Izabella or me know, first. All right?" Sirius turned around and walked over to the rock.  
  
"Sirius, what's going on?"  
  
Sirius looked down and to his left. "Just…extra precautions." He tried to make his voice sound casual.  
  
"I'm not stupid, you know," said Harry coolly. "Voldemort's on the move, isn't he? What's he doing now? Does this have anything to do with the Death Eater I saw?"  
  
Sirius turned all the way around and looked at Harry, he then sat down on the rock. "You sure do like to get straight to the bottom of things, don't you?" he smiled.  
  
"Well, it's the only way that I can find out things around here."  
  
Sirius sighed. "I'm not supposed to talk about this openly, who knows who might be listening. But you need to know. I very much doubt that anyone is hiding in the trees."  
  
Harry felt a nervous lurch in his stomach. Was it really getting that serious? He nervously looked around, but he didn't see anyone besides Sirius.  
  
"With Fudge denying everything and trying to keep everyone convinced that Voldemort is never going to return, things have become a little…hard. He's keeping a very close eye on us. That's why I came to stay with Izabella. The Ministry has no idea that she is even involved in this whole mess. According to them, she's just a nice old cat-lady who decided to retire to a nice muggle neighborhood. Granted, they felt that it was rather odd that she would choose to live among muggles, but then again she was muggle born, so they just assumed that perhaps she missed living the muggle life. It's very common amongst muggle borns."  
  
"But wouldn't they think it odd that she lived so close to me? Or that she used to baby-sit me?" asked Harry.  
  
"Perhaps, but I don't think the thought ever crossed their minds. They seem to have trouble putting two and two together. You can blame that on Fudge." There was a moment of silence.  
  
"So, what exactly happened, then, to make you and Mrs. Figg so busy?" Harry finally asked.  
  
Sirius sighed. "I don't rightly know, Harry. Something has changed. You can feel it in the air. Well, not here, because this is a muggle neighborhood. But something happened, something serious. Spells don't seem to be properly working. And there is a sense of heaviness upon the air."  
  
"I never noticed," Harry interrupted.  
  
"That's because you are living in a muggle neighborhood and you are an underage wizard who is not allowed to do magic during the holidays. At least, I hope you're not doing magic."  
  
"I'm not," Harry said with a slight smirk on his face.  
  
"Good. Now," Sirius looked up at the sky, "It's beginning to get late. We'd better hurry back."  
  
Harry looked up at the sky as well. It was around sunset. They'd better hurry if he wanted to get back to number four before dark.  
  
"Sirius, are things ever going to get better?" he asked.  
  
"Of course, Harry. But I'm afraid that they might get worse before they do."  
  
Harry let out a sigh and looked down at the ground. "I was afraid you might say that."  
  
Sirius got up and walked over to Harry. He placed on hand on each arm. "Now Harry, don't you worry about it, okay? Just concentrate on the upcoming school year, okay? Just think, you'll be back with all your friends in the safest place in the world."  
  
"Part of me doesn't want to go back," Harry said, "Not after last year. It won't be the same."  
  
"Things will be back to normal before you know it," said Sirius.  
  
Harry looked up at him. "Promise?"  
  
Sirius smiled. "Promise." And with that, he took a step back and turned into a dog.  
  
****  
  
"Enjoy your walk?" asked Mrs. Figg when Harry and Sirius returned.  
  
"Yeah," Harry replied.  
  
"Well that's good." She took the leash from Harry. "You'd better get going now. You want to make it home before it gets too dark."  
  
"All right, bye," said Harry. Sirius barked in reply.  
  
Harry walked out the door and headed back to Privet Drive. It was a beautiful evening; just right for a casual stroll home. Or, it would be, had Harry's stomach not felt so tight. He kept thinking about the conversation he had just had with Sirius. The thought was making him feel very apprehensive.  
  
"What I'm I so worried about? They can't touch me there," he said to himself.  
  
He continued walking slowly, taking in everything around him. No matter how much he hated living with the Dursleys, he was actually quite fond of the small town of Surrey in which he had grown up. The quiet summer evenings, that is. But perhaps this was all brought on by the events of the previous school year. He normally couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts. He even made himself a special chart in which he could cross off the days leading up to his return. But not this year.  
  
Indeed, he did want to return to Hogwarts, but it wasn't likely to be the same Hogwarts that he would be returning to in a couple of weeks. The Hogwarts he wanted to return to was fun, welcoming, and unpredictable. But he was almost certain that place no longer existed. This new place would be filled with too many memories; too much sadness. That's not the Hogwarts he wanted to return to.  
  
Harry reached the end of the street and turned onto another. Privet Drive was only a block or two away now. He began to whistle a tune of his own invention. He made it up as he went. He passed a house where small children were splashing in a wading pool, giggling and shouting at the top of their lungs. He continued to whistle.  
  
"No…"  
  
He passed a house where a group of elderly folk sat on the porch drinking tea and reminiscing about the 'good old days.'  
  
"Wait…"  
  
He passed a house where a young woman lay sprawled out on a trampoline in her swimming suit. No doubt she had been tanning and accidentally fell asleep.  
  
"You don't know what you are doing…"  
  
"What?" Harry turned around and looked around. No one was there. He swore he heard someone. But perhaps it was someone from a nearby house.  
  
"You dare presume what I do and do not know?"  
  
Harry turned back around and faced the direction that he was previously heading. Still no one. It couldn't be someone from a nearby house. But who else could it be?  
  
"Yes, I do! Just…please don't do this! I beg you!"  
  
There were two different people talking; a man and a young girl.  
  
"Don't worry, it won't hurt a bit."  
  
"No! Please!"  
  
Harry turned wildly around again. There was a scream, and things suddenly went dark.  
  
"Oh, shut up already. I've grown quite sick of your whining."  
  
After a few moments, Harry's eyes began to adjust. He was no longer on the street, but in a room. As his eyes became more adapted to the change in lighting he noticed dark shapes moving around. They came closer. He then realized what those dark shapes were. They looked like they were human, and they wore dark cloaks with hoods pulled up over their heads. They most certainly weren't dementors. There was only one possible answer left…  
  
"What is this?" Harry yelled, but no one seemed to notice that he was talking.  
  
"Get out of the way!" a voice from the back shouted. This time, Harry recognized it.  
  
A short and stocky figure burst through the crowd and stopped a few feet away from him. Then, to his horror, all except the short figure withdrew to the sides and made a path. There, in the shadows, moving toward him, was a pair of red eyes. The owner of the eyes came out of the shadow. There was no mistaking who it was. No one else had such pale skin or snake- like of a face.  
  
Harry gave out a yell and stumbled backwards.  
  
"Now, now, now, my dear, you mustn't go running off like this. It's not safe," the pale-skinned figure said.  
  
"This isn't real," Harry tried to tell himself. "It's not really happening."  
  
Indeed, everything he now saw had the faded look of the Death Eater he had seen in the garden. Their voices sounded echoy and distant, as if they were in a cave. He had to be hallucinating again, but the thought gave him no comfort.  
  
Then, as if coming from himself, Harry heard the girl again, although he couldn't see her anywhere in the room. "And just what, praytell, could be more unsafe than you?"  
  
"Me when I'm angry."  
  
Surprisingly, the girl laughed. "That's stupid! It's still you, whether angry or not."  
  
He lifted his wand. "Well, I guess that means there isn't anything more unsafe than me, then."  
  
The girl gasped. Harry turned his head and closed his eyes. He waited, but nothing happened. After a few moments he opened his eyes again, and this time, he wasn't in the dark room, and what he saw wasn't faded or echoy.  
  
He was sitting on the ground in a cemetery. He ached all over and was shaking slightly. The short and stocky man was still standing in front of him, but no one else was there except for someone to his right. It was Cedric.  
  
"Knock it off!" Cedric yelled, taking a step towards the man. "You're hurting him!"  
  
Then came the sound of a high, cold voice. "Kill the spare."  
  
Cedric took a step back. "What are you doing?"  
  
The man raised his wand.  
  
"No! Stop!" Harry yelled.  
  
But it was to no avail.  
  
"Hey! Are you all right?"  
  
"Huh?" Harry shook his head and looked around.  
  
"I said, are you all right?" It was the woman from the trampoline. A couple of the elderly people had gathered behind her.  
  
"Yeah…fine," Harry answered slowly.  
  
"You looked like you were having a seizure," the woman said.  
  
"Oh…" How was he going to explain this? "Uh…did I really?"  
  
"Yes. Would you like me to call your parents?"  
  
"No, no. It's…fine. This has happened before."  
  
"Oh. Are you epileptic, then?" She helped him get up.  
  
"Uh…yeah. Whatever."  
  
"You're not wearing a bracelet."  
  
"I uh…forgot it at home."  
  
"Oh. Well, are you sure you're all right?" The woman seemed genuinely concerned for him.  
  
"Yes. I'm fine. I gotta go!" Harry walked past her and headed back the way from which he came. When he rounded the corner and the woman was no longer in site, he took off at a run. The only thing he could think of was to tell Sirius. He'd want to know and was bound to find out somehow. He would be very upset if Harry kept this from him.  
  
(Good thinking, Harry ( )  
  
Harry finally got back to Mrs. Figg's front door. He banged his fist on the door and waited. No one came.  
  
Harry banged on the door again. "Mrs. Figg! Open the door! It's me, Harry!" But there was still no answer.  
  
"Mrs. Figg! Sirius!" He suddenly clapped his hands tightly to his mouth. Had he shouted that out loud? Harry looked wildly around, but he saw no one. Harry banged on the door again.  
  
"Mrs. Figg!"  
  
"Harry…"  
  
Harry backed away from the door slowly.  
  
"I'm sorry…"  
  
He turned around and suddenly found himself falling. He landed hard on the ground. He had forgotten that there were steps leading up to Mrs. Figg's front door. Harry got up and took off running, again. He didn't stop until he got back to number four and slammed the front door shut. He leaned up against it and slid down into a sitting position.  
  
(didn't understand the italics there- was he dreaming, or….)  
  
"What's all this noise?" Uncle Vernon boomed from the kitchen. He had come home while Harry was away. He burst through the kitchen door and looked down at Harry. "What are you doing?"  
  
Harry tried to answer, but he was too out of breath to do so.  
  
"Well? Are you going to answer?"  
  
"Just…" Harry began.  
  
"Just what?"  
  
"Just…running."  
  
"WELL DON'T SLAM THE DOOR!" Uncle Vernon yelled at him. He then turned and went back into the kitchen.  
  
Harry slowly got up and proceeded up the stairs. Just as he was opening the door to his room, he heard sniggering coming from down the hall. Dudley and his friend Pierz, a skinny boy with the face of a rat, were peering out the door and looking at him. Harry just shook his head, went into his room, and shut the door.  
  
"Unless this stops, I'm going to become a very fast runner," Harry said, still out of breath. He looked over at Hedwig, who was giving him a quizzical look from inside her cage.  
  
He walked over to his bed and threw himself upon it, landing on his back. He lay limply upon it, his body aching, and his heart pounding. A sharp pain in his left arm made him sit bolt upright. Upon further inspection, he found that both his left elbow and his right knee were scraped up very badly; no doubt a result of falling off of Mrs. Figg's front steps.  
  
Harry got up and went to the bathroom. He took out some cotton balls and a bottle of peroxide from underneath the sink. He put a cotton ball to the rim of the bottle, quickly turned it upside down and back, and then placed the cotton ball on his arm. He winced with pain, but he kept applying the peroxide nonetheless. After he was done with his arm, he moved on to his knee.  
  
When Harry had cleaned up all the blood and dirt from his wounds, he took out some Band-Aids and placed them upon his elbow and his knee. He then put everything back in its rightful place and headed back into his room.  
  
What had happened out there? What could be causing it? This was all becoming more than he could bear. It could be hallucinations, but why would they be happening to him? What he really wanted to know was why some things looked different. Today was the first time that he'd seen just what he had seen. Everything seemed fuzzy, like the world was a television set and the antenna needed adjusting. The lone Death Eater he had seen on his birthday was like that, too.  
  
But there were other times where things were different. Sometimes what he saw didn't seem fuzzy at all. Sometimes, he saw things that seemed so real he'd almost swear he was there. Then he'd remember that he really was there. It might have happened in the past, but he was there. These were his visions of the graveyard. They happened all the time. If something were to happen that reminded him of it, he would suddenly be there. Sometimes it would happen in his sleep, and each time, he could see Cedric, still alive. But he never was when Harry snapped back out of it.  
  
But today he had heard Cedric demand that Wormtail, for that's who the stocky figure was, stop because he was hurting Harry. Harry had no recollection of ever hearing Cedric say this, but perhaps he had.  
  
Harry's two most pressing questions were where Mrs. Figg and Sirius had suddenly gone to, and also, what was that voice he had heard? It sounded like a girl's voice. The one he had heard when he was in the dark room? Perhaps, but he wasn't sure. The only thing he was sure about was that he wanted to find out what was going on.  
  
Harry wanted to tell Sirius first, but Sirius wasn't home, or was he? He might be now. But Harry didn't want to go back to Mrs. Figg's house. The sun had now vanished behind the horizon, and it would be pitch-black outside any minute. If something strange was going on, he didn't want to be caught outside alone in the dark.  
  
He decided that at the present moment it would be best to get some rest. He was very tired, and he was expecting an important phone call tomorrow, though he didn't know from whom. He remembered hearing that, dew to some form of magic performed by Dumbledore, he was completely safe when with the Dursleys. Doing anything besides lying in bed could be a bad idea. It would be best to wait until morning. If the call didn't come, he could always send Hedwig over to Mrs. Figg's. Yes, that's what he'll do.  
  
Harry flipped off the light switch and crawled into bed. Best not worry yet, he told himself. And with that thought, he drifted off to sleep. 


End file.
